Daphne's Wartime Memories Evacuation ( Part 1 of 2 - Part 2 found in Royal Air Force)

Daphne's Wartime Memories
EVACUATION

When in 1938 the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain arrived home after his visit to Germany carrying a piece of paper — the peace pledge signed by Adolf Hitler with his jubilant message “Peace in our Time” — my heart sank. Now one year later, the storm clouds of war in Europe had gathered and my parents wore anxious glum expressions. I had to conceal my own excitement — I wanted this war, I needed this war, I figured and as it turned out rightly so that it must surely interrupt my schooling, the dreaded school leaving exams (matriculation) was the dark cloud on my horizon.

I was 15 at the outbreak of war; children from London schools were immediately evacuated to towns in the country. After our tearful goodbyes from parents who assured us we would be home in a few weeks and definitely for Christmas — with name tags tied to us, gas masks in boxes slung on our shoulders - we queued outside our school in Ealing for coaches. We were bound for what was in our estimation a far off place “out in the sticks” called Aylesbury and a safe haven from German bombers.

On arrival we were herded into the Town Hall where the procedure resembled a cattle market. We stood in lines while the good ladies of Aylesbury (anxious to make their contribution to the war effort) eyed us up and down and made their selection; to take a child to care for in their home for the duration of the war (just a few weeks of course). I do not know what the criteria was, but my friend Eileen and I were left, no-one wanted us — perhaps we were too big, perhaps we would require a lot of feeding. Embarrassed and demoralised we trailed around the roads of Aylesbury with one of the lady organisers knocking on doors.

Eventually a young couple Bette and Jim took pity on us and we found a home and very kind and good to us they were. In due course my younger sister joined us there.

LONDON BLITZ

We did not stay in Aylesbury for long. I managed to persuade my dad and we returned home. At this time the war seemed to be “on Hold” with just the occasional wail of the air raid siren, often a false alarm. Then in September 1941 the war literally exploded upon us with the bombing of the London docks.

Peter, my school days boyfriend and I were in the West End at Drury Lane Theatre where we saw Robert Donat, famous actor of our time playing in “The Devil’s Disciples”. The performance had just finished when the sirens sounded accompanied by explosions — our own anti aircraft shells. The theatre manager came on stage and advised us to remain seated. There followed entertainment and the stars from nearby theatres swapped over to entertain each others audiences, Michael Redgrave was among them.

I soon became restless and we decided to leave. We walked out into the darkness (black-out) with only the search lights that swept the sky. The underground stations were closed that night and the street shelters were filled with people singing. We walked 15 miles from Piccadilly to Greenford. We did have a short respite and sat on the common at Shepherd’s Bush, but not for long as the shrapnel from our guns whistled through the trees.

My parents and sister were in the underground shelter we shared with neighbours and families. My mother of course was sick with worry and told me later that her tummy rumbles were noisier than the banging overhead.

After Business College I worked for a while in London during the time of the “blitz”. Every morning I emerged from the underground to see weary firemen still fighting the flames. Now of course the undergrounds were open for the people to take shelter. When I left work at 5 o’clock the platforms were already filled with families with air beds and sleeping bags and women with their hair in curlers! There was just a narrow pathway left for commuters to use.

At the end of 1940 Peter joined the RAF and a few weeks later I volunteered for the W.A.A.F.

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